


Therefore I Am

by teaseawrites



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: AKA Garrus and Shepard let loose and go dancing after the war, Destroy Ending, F/M, Oneshot, Post-Canon, post-ME3, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaseawrites/pseuds/teaseawrites
Summary: Shepard and Garrus go dancing after the war.She has never let loose like this before, and Garrus likes her little black dress.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	Therefore I Am

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Billie Eilish's 'Therefore I Am' and it made me imagine this, so I HAD to write it. 
> 
> I DEFINITELY recommend listening to it while you read.

She owes the galaxy nothing.

The music pumps around her and Shepard moves. She moves in a way she hasn’t in months—fluidly, freely, honestly. Nobody would say she can’t dance now; not when her hips sway like that, not with her head tipped back, not when laughter flows in an intoxicated tangle from her lips. She’s free—she’s free and she hasn’t felt anything like it in years.

Alive. Here. Free.

She hardly knows what’s going on around her. She’s vaguely aware of the movement of bodies, hands brushing against her waist—Garrus. She’s not sure if he’s as drunk as she is, but she doesn’t seem to care. He says nothing and neither does she; after everything, after all of it, they let the music carry them away in a seductive little club on Illium and they  _ dance. _

A squeeze at her waist, teeth brushing against her neck—her turian is here in casual clothes, attire that he’s donned more than his armor as of late. Shepard suspects, in her more sober moments, that his lack of armor is an attempt to get  _ her  _ used to a lack of a military life more than he. The burns to the left side of her body and the damage to her cybernetics were only half of the damage she suffered; with her legs crushed, that’s a military career officially over.

She shouldn’t be dancing right now, certainly. Not when she’s still getting mobility back in them. But tonight…

Tonight, they let loose.

“Shepard,” Garrus rumbles against her neck. In the dark of the club, in the blue-purple haze, he sways to the music with her—drunk, without a care. “Shepard.” 

“Mm,” she murmurs in response. She’s hardly coherent enough to talk. She’d never get this drunk on the Normandy; she’d end up asleep beside Aria, yes, but she could never let loose. Not then. “Garrus.”

“You,” he breathes, and then—nothing. Breathless, wordless, and exquisitely sweet. She doesn’t blame him for his loss for words: in a moment like this, there’s nothing to say. No words to say it with.

But she can see it in his eyes: the love, the relief, the hunger. _Little black dress, no shame for her scars or burns—_

She can sense his  _ lust. _

So later, when she’s all danced out, they  _ almost  _ make it back to their ship before Garrus decides right now is good, right now is enough, right now is—the time to bury himself inside of her. They are a tangle of snarls and gasps and scratches as he fucks her against a crate of cargo boxes, and it is the roughest he has been with her fragile body in months. Months—they’ve spent months travelling, moving, keeping her restless body sated and sick of staying in one place.

She doesn’t owe the galaxy anything, but she still needs it to survive. It’s no good staying in one place; there’s still a lot to be done, and she’s not done yet.

Shepard comes with his name on her lips and Garrus spills himself inside of her with a growl, and later, they are back on the move.

When it’s just the two of them, the galaxy seems like a perfectly empty place.


End file.
